Over 16,530,026 people are on fubar.
What are you waiting for?
time and time again iRun into issues related to the art of communication. iSpeak; but, the words heard and, more importantly, the meaning deciphered is often times not at all what iTried to convey...
iDidn't celebrate my birthday this year. Actually wanted to, but for some reason, it just didn't fall through. August was busy work, training, maintenance, and qualifications. September was the on-set of the extreme fatigue iFeel now. October was team training in Florida. November...?
Nothing new, iAm at that point where after all that's stacked up begins to wobble. iWonder when the collapse will come. My return to America depresses the shit out of me. iFind it hard to parallel, to exist on similar planes... iCannot concentrate. iFeel somewhat like an animal, of the endangered kind. Driven from my natural environment by poachers of the mind, heart, and spirit... and now, in unfamiliar territory, am hunted by vile and unusual creatures.
iStarve
iStress
and in the dismal darkness, iAm alone.
What's worse about it, from my perpective at least: iFeel like iTried this time. For the first time in a long time, iDon't think iPushed anyone away. Yet... there's no one here.
NOTE: iAppreciate those of you who would say that your always here for me, that you care, etc... But, iMean really, there's no one HERE for me, but self.
iDon't need words of encouragement, promises to always be supportive, or inspiration that eventually things will get better. iKnow these things. iAlso know that tomorrow is not set in stone, so at this moment...
iLean on the intangible: dreams and memories.
all iAsk, is that when my gelatinous support structure collapses... don't help pick me up, if you're not going to walk with me long enough for my own legs to heal.
It rains bricks and bones, and
In the chaos I start to drown
...never learned to swim, because
My feet could reach the ground.
Somewhere 'twixt the crunch of
me choking on the fine debris
...I had a revelation that
The rain was caused by me.
The storm cloud was my sorrow
The lightning was my fear
The rain was tears of those I hurt
And, that's why they aren't here.
The only logical solution to it all is that we are speaking different languages. Generally, internationally, help is free.
Copyright 2008poeticDesCent. All rights reserved by the author. Unlawful use or reproduction may result in legal action.
